


Scars of the Soul

by Penrhyn_Gate (orphan_account)



Series: The Growing Tale of Whimsical Gintamalets.... [2]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, He's looking after Kagura, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Platonic Cuddling, Young!Gintoki, yorozuya - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8982610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Penrhyn_Gate
Summary: Sometimes, simply seeing the face of a loved one will go a long way in sealing the wounds of the soul.
 
(In which Gintoki has a questionable night job that scars him more than he let's on)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [you've hit a wall and it's not your fault](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1715426) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> So hi there :3 This was inspired by an Orphan_account oneshot 'you've hit a wall and it's not your fault' After reading that I began to think of an after story and thus this angst overload was born.  
> My first Fic on the platform so any feedback (positive or negative) would be appreciated :3  
> Happy angst filled reading.

Whispering a quiet greeting, Gintoki slid through the front door of his first floor flat. He quietly closed the door behind him with a soft click, as not to wake the other residents of the apartment. It was early morning, which was evident by the light that was beginning to filter through the cracks in the blinds covering the kitchen window. He felt like he’d been out for hours... Working... And all he wanted to do was fall asleep where he was standing. But, for the sake of not being an inconvenience to the other residents, he urged his aching body forward and somehow managed to fumble the key to his room into the awaiting keyhole and stumble inside.

He wasn’t surprised to see her waiting there wrapped within the warmth of the duvet. No doubt Kagura had fallen asleep several times waiting for him to return and the sight of her nodding head brought a small smile to this chapped lips.

He was right- Just seeing the little girl was enough to almost make him forget his earlier ‘shift at work’. _Almost_ he repeated feeling once again empty despite being home again after hours of torture.

**Hours earlier**

  
He'd laid there for an hour not moving. The nauseous stench of sweat, sex and semen had been choking him since they left and he was sure it'd haunt him forever. The anger, _the humiliation_ of the night's events left Gintoki's resolve weakening- His entire body was stiff and ached so much. Why did he have to suffer like this? He was barely legally classed as an adult. But that didn't matter. In the world, the desperate will get money by any means necessary...

_Any_ means necessary.

Even though it was an hour later (well, at least he thought it was- that was something that he couldn't be sure. Hell lasted for eternity.) He was still wearing the makeshift blindfold. Gintoki didn't want to remove it, he didn't want to see what he felt all over his body. But he had to get up. He had to go back to Kagura. She was all alone in their dingy flat and he needed to- he _needed_ to see her. So he sat up. That in itself was a struggle. His muscles all twitched and groaned in protest and he almost wanted to scream from distress, from disgust, from _hopelessness_ as their residue dripped slowly out of his-

He was tainted. He had to get clean. Weakly lifting an arm to his face he clawed the blindfold away and without surveying the damage, stumbled desperately into the adjacent bathroom.That was a mistake.

That was a mistake.

The bathroom, though cheap and relatively bare, was equipped with a floor length mirror. Gintoki's face burned with indignation and shame as he'd unwittingly forced himself to look at his brokenness.

It was everywhere. His chest, his face, his _hair._ The cum, all of it, had long dried and crust, making him look like he had a wretched skin condition. His sides and legs were etched with red markings and bruises from where they'd gripped _too_ tight and bitten him _too_ hard. His inner thighs were getting recoated with the semen that leaking from where they'd entered him over and _over_ again. The thing that haunted him the most, however, was the emptiness and defeat his eyes held as they stared back at him.

Gintoki felt nauseated beyond belief.

He hated the fact that after seeing the results of it all and recalling the events that transpired, his dick has started to throb again. That was the worst thing about this line of work- because as much as he wanted to throw up and scrubbed his skin it'll it bled, it _had_ felt good no, it was _the best he'd ever had_ and seeing it all made it throb harder.

  
He wanted to cry, to scream at the unfairness of it all. The wave of nausea that hit caused him to crash and vomit into the toilet, depositing the contents of his stomach. It was mostly white with tints of red, from where he presumed, his throat had been rubbed raw after giving more head than he could recall. It was almost as he could still _feel_ the way he forced his tongue to _caress_ and _tease_ their d-

Abruptly Gintoki stood up. He needed to leave this place. Stumbling, he fell into the shower turning it on with fumbling fingers and immediately stepped into the stream of water without waiting for it to heat up. He was there for at least half an hour using as many hotel sized packs of shampoo and body wash he could find. By the end of it all, he had rubbed his skin raw, his throat was burning from all the water and mouthwash he'd gargled and his ass had been cleaned the best he could with aching muscles. But the self-fingering, even to clean himself, triggered his bodily senses to the point he had to.... Relieve himself more than once which disgusted him more than anything. And even though he stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist fresh and as clean as humanly possible, he could still feel the filth and grime coat his skin, his tongue, his _asshole_ and he hated them for it.

Though the blisteringly hot shower had somewhat soothed his aching shoulder muscles, it was still a trying task to dress himself in the spare clothes he'd brought or pick up the soiled yen that had been scattered all other the destroyed bedsheets. But he _forced_ himself through it, just as he effectively _forced_ himself to be gang raped by so many men probably twice or three times his age.

Gintoki sunk down against the wall he'd been unknowingly leaning against as his shame gnawed on his conscience. He drew his knees up to his body so he could wrap his sore arms around, locking them in position. As he had done so at least twice for men he didn't even know the faces of, bar the boss. He could feel their hands _roaming_ his form, slapping his arse and stuffing their hard dicks in his throat, their wandering fingers in his exposed ar-

  
He couldn't _breathe._ There were too many, _too many_ fingers forced into placed they _shouldn’t_ and they were _forcing_ it down his throat too _deep_ and he was choking and he _couldn't breathe._

  
A sudden pain in the back of his head snapped Gintoki out of his living nightmare. It took him a while to piece together what had happened. He'd been rocking himself, seemingly in a comforting action, back and forth and managed to do it with such vigour that he had hit his head against the wall he was leant against. He was somewhat grateful for being snapped back to reality but Gintoki was at a loss. Normally, he would have blocked out the memory of the nights' events by now.

Perhaps it was because they'd approached him at a bad time, or because for the first time there was more than one man. He didn't know. _Besides what's normal about this type of work?_ He mused bitterly, as emotions burned in his throat and pricked his eyes.

Gintoki often referred to himself as Yorozuya or a jack of all trades. He hadn't meant that title to encompass _this_ type of work. He acted like he was indifferent or genuinely interested when talking with potential clients, but really, each session destroyed a part of his soul. This time Gintoki really did sob. _Just once_ , he thought as he finally let all the anger, the hate, the _humiliation_ and the shame of it all out in muted cries of anguish. He wasn't one to cry naturally but there was something scarring, _something_ so disconcerting about the boss's parting words 'we'll be in touch' that threatened to break his eighteen-year-old mind.

 

It was a while before he calmed down. He had to leave.

He slowly counted to yen clutched in his hand. The reason he did such a thing as this was to get money anyway. 50,000 yen. With this Kagura's hunger would he sated for once and she'd be able to go to sleep and a full stomach. Shinpachi could come over for a decent meal for once while his parents and sister were out of town. His resolve steeled. He'd done this so they could be happy, so that they'd have time to be children and not become premature adults. No matter how others and he himself looked down on this method it had to be done so the kids could live happy and carefree.

Using the wall Gintoki lifted himself up and walked slowly towards the door. He didn't need or want to give the room a parting glance. So he didn't. Besides he knew he'd be in one similar in the not so distant future.

  
**Presently**

  
The incessant name calling and constant tugging at his jeans shook Gintoki out of his day nightmare. Kagura had, as he painfully reminisced, woken up by his presence and sleepily slipped out of the covers to effectively wrap herself around his waist in a familiar hold.

“You finally showed your face then? You were out for so long I thought you were playing house with Madao forever.” She mumbled, her words coming out muffled from where she’d buried her face in his side.

This elicited a small chuckle from Gintoki- the first one of the night. He brought a heavy hand to rest on her unruly hair.

“He wasn’t home. Kinda stood me up so I played around alone for while so I wouldn’t be glomped by a monkey- I guess that failed.’ He teased lightly.

“Gin-chan was probably out eating loads of sweets and parfaits and ramen at Ikumatsu's without me.”

“.....”

She huffed indignantly at his failure to admit to the truth and unwrapped herself returning to the bed in the corner. Gintoki watched her go.

The warmth, the familiarity, the security. Even with her mild anger, it was all there being emitted from the little girl despite him being her guardian. And as he trailed after to rest after a very very long night, Gintoki knew he’d do anything for this girl.

“If you think I’m buying you some of that disgusting seaweed as an apology you dead wrong.”

...Except feed her growing addictions that was.


End file.
